Downfall
by Jemima123
Summary: Madison Walters was always the woman who intrigued Sherlock. But now he thinks she may be getting herself into business which she can't handle. Business which involves killing him. So why does he feel compelled to warn her and help her?
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock sat in 221B Baker Street on the cold January morning with a book in front of his eyes. His pretence at reading it was boring his mind. He had read the book inside out and was not in need of looking at another dulcet word on its page. But there was nothing to do. No thrilling case to go out and solve. He had been investigating one case but he had found it to be far too easy for his mind to even contemplate. No, he was bored. And there was no denying it.

…

"Well I have to say it has taken you long enough," Sherlock grinned as he walked over to DI Lestrade on the Thames Bank, looking onto the sand which his feet were sticking into as Lestrade rolled his eyes and allowed the consulting detective to examine the body of the young blonde woman.

"There have been no interesting cases for you to solve Sherlock," Lestrade replied. "It has been a quiet month."

"There is never a quiet month for the criminal classes," Sherlock frowned. "You're just jumping to wrong conclusions."

"Instead of standing here and having a go at me," Lestrade began, "why don't you find out what is wrong with the body?"

"I thought that would have been obvious," Sherlock muttered. "It's not breathing. That is the clear picture."

"Do you want me to kick you off the case before you've begun?" Lestrade cocked a brow and Sherlock crouched down, picking up her hand, ignoring the detective inspector.

"She's single. Recently engaged by the looks of it too," Sherlock checked the diamond ring and his eyes narrowed. "Of course it's recent. The ring is new and she's also a rather wealthy woman in her mid twenties. I'd say she's marrying into money judging by the looks of her. Her hair has been recently dyed showing she did nothing with it before and her clothes are all new and designer label of course…her hands are perfectly maintained so manual work is out of the question. Going by her shoes she has a job which requires walking around a lot so instead of heels she goes with flats which are more practical. So that means she is possibly someone who works in an office and does a lot of walking. There is also the fact that she has a piece of paper in her pocket with scribbled letters on which shows memos to herself and the paper reads 'J L Accountants."

"You had best not be making this up…" Lestrade warned him.

"When do I ever make anything up?" Sherlock rolled his eyes. "All of the evidence points to one thing."

"What is that?"

"She was murdered. Look at the hole in her head," Sherlock pointed at it. "It is a perfect aim. No one normal would have been able to do that. You're looking for someone with experience with a gun and execution style shooting is their trademark."

"And where are you going?" Lestrade called to Sherlock as he saw him walking away.

"To solve the case," Sherlock called back. "Lord only knows you won't."

…

Sherlock stood in his apartment after looking through the case file on the dead woman. He had photos stuck to the wall and mirror and he continued staring at them in a quizzing manner. Why would someone shoot a simple secretary? Why would someone want her dead?

"I've done the food shopping," a monotone voice spoke but Sherlock continue ignoring his flatmate. "Even after a hard day working I managed to get all the shopping done and I imagine I'm going to be the one preparing the dinner too."

"She had found something out," Sherlock suddenly muttered and jumped off the arm of the armchair he had been sitting on.

"Excuse me?" John asked with a raised brow as he placed the groceries into the correct cupboards. "And would it kill you to tidy up in here?"

"But what did she find out?" Sherlock paced up and down beside the fireplace. "It must have been something atrocious for her to be shot but why? Why kill her? Why not let her in on it? Oh! She must have threatened to tell someone! But who would have paid to have her killed?"

"I take it I'll do the cooking tonight then?" John whispered grumpily whilst Sherlock grabbed his coat.

"I need to go the accountants."

…..

"Boss," a tall blonde man grunted as he walked into the office. The office was situated on the middle of West Street, just above a small chain bank. It was nothing conspicuous and nothing that any normal person would pay attention to unlike the large buildings of Canary Wharf. No, this office was small but stylishly decorated and it housed one of Britain's most dangerous women.

"Hmm," the woman asked, sitting behind her desk, a pen in hand as she jotted things down into a new leather clad notebook.

"Miss Lyons has been taken care of," he simply told her, dropping a cheque onto her desk.

"And what was your preferred method of carrying out this task?" she asked again, her eyes still glued to the page.

"Simple shot to the head."

"Oh good," she replied, a smile still not on her face, "nothing too messy then."

"And the payment from the accountants was a nice sum."

"How much is it on the cheque?"

"Five hundred thousand."

"I suppose that shall suffice," she sighed slightly, running a hand through her brown curly hair.

"And what is my cut out of it?" he asked her in a gruff voice and she cocked a brow, her eyes peering up from her work.

"Seventy five thousand," she said simply.

"What?" he snapped.

"Take it or leave it Marcus," she shrugged, sitting up and leaning back, crossing her legs as she did so.

"I had hoped for a little more," he snorted.

"Hadn't we all?" she asked rhetorically. "Your payment shall be given to you in the next few days."

"And may I ask why I had to kill her?"

"No," she replied sweetly, "you may not. The firm trusted me with that information and I shall not pass it on to anyone else."

"So you just expect me to kill for no reason?"

"You're a hit man Marcus," she rolled her eyes. "That's your job."

"How did they even find out about you? It's not as if you're in the yellow pages, is it?"

"Oh I could be," she said sarcastically. "How does anyone find out about my services? They ask."

"And-"

"That's enough questions for today," she sniped back at him and looked out the glass door where a tall dark haired man in a black suit stood and she nodded, indicating for him to come in. "Harry will show you out."

"And my payment?"

"As I said," she drawled, "your payment shall be with you in the next few days once I clear everything."

"Fine," Marcus replied and he stood up whilst Harry held the door open.

"Pleasure as always," she spoke politely and he nodded and left, leaving her and Harry in the room.

She picked the cheque up and grinned slightly at it, her face lighting up for a moment.

"Accountants dealing with dodgy clients can lead to trouble, don't you agree Harry?" she checked, filing the cheque into her drawer beside her large leather chair and locking it up.

"Yes ma'am," he simply replied.

"Shame people can't mind their own business," she sighed. "Oh well, keeps us in a job."

"Speaking of people minding their own business ma'am," Harry began and she looked up from the drawer and into his eyes, intrigued as to what he was saying.

"Continue," she nodded, sitting on edge, resting her hands together on the desk.

"Well after the body was discovered Scotland Yard brought someone…different into the case…"

"A new officer?" she twitched her head to the side slightly.

"No…one of the boys said he was a consulting detective…whatever the hell that is," Harry chuckled lightly and her face fell. The only one in the world was on a case she had provided. But she needed to hear his name before being sure.

"And did this man have a name?" she asked, her voice on edge slightly.

"Sherlock Holmes."

She took a shallow breath and nodded, leaning back in her chair before standing up and looking onto the street through the window- which was becoming dirty- where people continued about their business, moving into shops and out of them, no one paying her any attention.

"Pardon me asking ma'am," Harry coughed lightly, "but do you know of this Mr Holmes?"

She remained silent for a moment, gripping onto the ledge of the windowsill before nodding.

"Sherlock Holmes is one of the most troublesome men you will ever meet." She told him. "He's a problem which needs to be taken care of. At once."

…..

"The firm knew something about her death," Sherlock stated when he walked into the flat, taking off his scarf as he did so. John was sat in front of the TV, watching some melodramatic soap whilst Sherlock spoke aloud. Before John had a chance to say anything Sherlock had walked over to the TV and had turned it off.

"Why did you do that?" John snapped.

"Because the noise doesn't help me think," Sherlock replied. "It's clear they didn't kill her themselves. Far too conspicuous to do so…they hired someone…she found out some dodgy business and they had her killed. But who did it?"

"A man with a gun?" John suggested.

"Witty as always," Sherlock replied in a drawl before hearing a knock at the door.

"Go and get that," he told his friend.

"Why can't you?" John snapped back.

"Because I'm busy," Sherlock hissed, looking at the photos of the bullet in Lilly Lyons head whilst John muttered to himself and went for the door.

"But who do I know who executes like that? Not the Gollum…not the Golden Coast Gun Man either…none of them…"

"Sherlock," John murmured and he walked back into the flat with a piece of paper in his hand. "There was no one at the door…just this with your name on it."

"Hmm?" Sherlock's face went serious as he took the envelope from his friend's hand and looked at his name neatly scrawled on it. He noticed that writing from his days at university. But he had to be mistaken. Surely it wasn't possible. Sherlock gently prised the envelope open and pulled out the small piece of paper which had large loops and letters on it with a simple sentence on it;

'Be a good boy and stay away?'

"What is it?" John asked, looking at the letter whilst Sherlock handed it to him, sure it was her who was the culprit of the letter.

"Do you have any idea who sent this to you?" John asked. "Nice handwriting and all that…so it must be a woman?"He checked, knowing what Sherlock had said about women's handwriting.

"She's the most dangerous woman you can ever meet," Sherlock muttered, looking out the window onto Baker Street. "And up until now I had forgotten of her existence."

"Who is she?" John asked and Sherlock remained silent for a moment before speaking in a deep and low voice to his friend;

"Madison Walters."

…  
>AN: So the plot will thicken but this is the first chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. So please do leave me a review to let me know what you think!


	2. Chapter 2

_Ten years ago_

_Sherlock walked down the halls slowly. His feet dropped onto the red carpet quickly as he held a book in his hand, moving with swiftness to his room which he shared with Sebastian Moran. Sherlock was tired and fed up. The lectures which he was taking were far too easy and he had been made to take a History degree just to keep his brain stimulated._

"_Sherlock," Sebastian drawled once he saw the young man walk back into the room. He was laid on his bed with a book dangling on his stomach, not reading as his eyes remained shut. Sherlock dropped his book onto the long wooden desk before sitting on the spinning chair._

"_What is it Sebastian?" he asked, opening the book and his notepad as he did so._

"_Nothing," Sebastian shrugged. "I was doing that thing you do...reading things without seeing them."_

"_Considering I am the only one who shares this room with you then I doubt it would have been anyone else other than me to walk in," Sherlock muttered. _

"_Such a spoil sport, aren't you Sherlock?" Sebastian chuckled._

"_I'm practical," he replied. _

"_Say," Sebastian sat up and looked at the back of Sherlock. "Have you seen the new girl in the next hall?"_

"_Can't say I have," Sherlock whispered, wondering why Sebastian even tried to make conversation with him when he could clearly see he was working. And it didn't help that conversation with Sebastian was tedious. _

"_She's got a very nice figure," Sebastian nodded in approval. "She's studying History. I'm surprised you haven't seen her."_

"_What is her name?" Sherlock wondered, wanting to know so he could just give Sebastian a firm answer to stop his boring conversation._

"_Madison I think," he mused, "Madison Walters."_

"_The name doesn't ring a bell," Sherlock spoke and Sebastian went silent for a moment._

"_You'd have remembered," Sebastian chuckled and Sherlock pursed his lips together and closed his eyes. "She has got extremely nice-"_

"_I'm off to the library," Sherlock spoke loudly, suddenly standing up and closing his book._

"_You only just came back from there," Sebastian told him._

"_Well I need to go back. I forgot a book."_

"_Is it important?" Sebastian asked._

"_Do you mean is it more important than this enthralling conversation?" Sherlock asked sarcastically and Sebastian frowned and extended his hand, motioning to the door whilst Sherlock moved over to it._

"_Go then," Sebastian said. "But you'll never get a girl if you don't want to talk about their features."_

"_I don't want a girlfriend," Sherlock replied in a snap._

"_I just meant a girl in general," Sebastian grinned whilst Sherlock rolled his eyes and moved down the hall. _

_His stroll to the campus library was one which Sherlock took his time in completing. He deduced that the slower he could be then the shorter he would have to spend in Sebastian's company. His roommate was one which he could handle but in small doses. Sherlock was not a social person and Sebastian knew that. The infuriating part was that he tried to change him and Sherlock didn't want to be changed. Once inside the library he made his way to the History section where he saw a girl stood. She was leaning against the shelves with her ankles crossed, a book in her hand as she placed her other slim hand over her mouth to yawn. Sherlock walked over to the section she was stood at and saw she was holding the book which he was after. He frowned before searching the shelves for another copy of the book as the girl yawned loudly once again._

"_Excuse me," Sherlock asked her in a mutter, "but are you planning on taking that book out on loan?"_

"_It is a possibility," she nodded, closing it to look at the cover. "Why do you ask?"_

"_Because that is the only copy left and I am in need of it for my History class," Sherlock informed her and she raised a brow._

"_History?" she asked. "I think I've seen you in my class."_

"_Have you?" he asked in a slow voice. "Well your face does not look familiar."_

"_I'm new," she replied._

"_Oh," Sherlock smirked. "You must be Madison Walters."_

"_So you do know me," she grinned lightly, her eyes still not looking into Sherlock's. _

"_No," Sherlock said with a slight smirk, "my roommate was just informing me of how you're new and have very nice breasts."_

"_So that's what I'm known for around here," she whispered lightly, whistling lowly as she changed the page. "Well, good to be known for something."_

"_So you like to be well known," Sherlock nodded. _

"_And what is wrong with that?"_

"_I do believe it shows your insecure and so need people to know about you but-"_

"_I am anything but insecure," she told him, still remaining calm as she read the blurb on the book. "Make no mistake about that."_

_Sherlock observed her lightly. Normally when he began to read people they looked at him intently. They were intrigued by him before becoming annoyed and telling him to leave them alone. But she remained calm and cool. She showed a lack of emotion to him and she was clearly an intelligent woman judging by the book she was reading which was extremely in depth. Her lack of emotions made Sherlock interested in her slightly._

"_I haven't caught your name," Madison told Sherlock._

"_It's Holmes. Sherlock Holmes," he told her._

"_Well," she spoke quietly, standing opposite Sherlock, slamming the book onto his chest, "you keep your book. I think you're in need of it more than me."_

"_And why is that?" Sherlock asked her as he took the book, her hand still on it whilst Sherlock looked down into her blue eyes. _

"_Because I've read all of the books in this section," she replied._

"_Impossible," Sherlock shook his head._

"_Nothing is impossible Holmes," she said as she moved her hand from the book and turned on her heel. "It was nice meeting you."_

_Sherlock watched her walk away, her brown hair swaying as she walked with purpose, her feet lightly moving from the floor before she left. Madison Walters was certainly someone he would have to watch. _

Now

"Who is Madison Walters?" John asked Sherlock whilst the consulting detective pulled his coat onto his body and he text his brother in need of a location.

"She's dangerous," Sherlock told his friend.

"That doesn't answer the question of who she is," John frowned.

"It's irrelevant who she is," Sherlock snapped back. "She's smart...too smart."

...

Madison Walters turned out the light to her office before shrugging into her black coat and buttoning it up. She quickly picked up her briefcase and locked the office up, checking the cheque was in her pocket before moving onto the street and joining the other people who had left work on the pavement before hailing a cab and climbing into it. Once at her apartment building she climbed out and took the elevator up to her penthouse apartment, collecting the post on her way up. Once she unlocked her apartment, she switched the light on to reveal a large open spaced living and dining area full of new and modern furniture. It seemed cold. Madison moved into her bedroom and dropped her heels onto the floor, noting the alarm clock on her bedside table was askew. She grinned lightly and shut her curtains to her room, pulling down the tights from under her skirt.

"Good evening Sherlock," she spoke loudly, bending her leg and resting it onto her bed as she rolled the tight down. She looked to the side into her walk in dressing room where she could make out a figure in the darkness sat in her plush chair in the centre of the room.

"Madison," Sherlock simply responded, his voice still low and deep before he stood up and moved to the archway, resting against it.

"To what do I owe the honour?" she asked him, depositing her tights onto the bed and looking at him, pulling the zipper on her skirt down.

"You consider it an honour I am here?" he asked her with a raised brow.

"The great Sherlock Holmes being here?" she raised a brow, the skirt dropping to the floor whilst Sherlock remained stone cold. "I should be honoured."

"But you're not," Sherlock drawled.

"Not really," she told him. "I can guess why you're here. Was my note not enough?"

"You know me," Sherlock replied, his eyes darting to her long legs and then back to her eyes, "I don't like to be told what to do."

"No," she said. "You never did."

"Although I would like you to stay away," Madison began peeling the buttons to her blouse back.

"And why is that?" he asked and she moved over to him, her hand lightly touching his arm as she looked into his eyes.

"Because I think it would be a shame to kill you," she said and then moved to grab some more comfortable clothes from her wardrobe. "Although, if you keep on snooping then I will have no choice but to kill you."

"And if I told you now that I won't stop then what will happen?"

"Sherlock," Madison chuckled and pulled on a long white shirt and then reached for the gun she kept in her wardrobe before turning around, seeing him stood directly in front of her as she pressed the gun to his temple.

"I'm giving you a warning Sherlock," she told him dangerously.

"You won't shoot me," he said confidently.

"Why wouldn't I?" she asked.

"Because you don't have the nerve to do it yourself," he told her. "You get other people to do the job for you."

"Don't test me," she warned him.

"So what's going on Madison?"

"Nothing," she said.

"We both know that's not true."

"Fair enough." She shrugged. "But I'm not telling you what is happening."

"I've never had to deal with you on a case before," he said and she cocked a brow and tilted her head slightly.

"I like to keep under the radar," she replied with a slight shrug.

"So why didn't you this time?"

"I'm unsure. I didn't change anything. Normally the bodies disappear and aren't seen again. But this one has been...maybe the tide on the Thames didn't push it out to sea like it was supposed to do..."

"That was a sloppy mistake."

"As I said," Madison drawled, "It's irrelevant. No one can trace it back to me and if anyone does find out who killed her then my name won't be mentioned. Just stop poking your nose into my business and we can go back to how we were."

"It's too late Madison," Sherlock said. "I know that the accountant firm hired you to kill Miss Lyons because she realised they were dealing with fake accounts and tax evasion. Of course, you would never kill her yourself. You have someone to do that for you so you don't get your hands dirty and nothing can be traced to you."

"So what do you plan to do? Run off to the police and tell them?"

"I have no evidence," Sherlock replied. "There would be no point."

"Glad you understand that."

"But if I continue digging then I do believe I will find out more about you."

"Good luck," Madison replied.

"I don't need luck."

"I will hurt you Sherlock."

"We both know you won't."

Suddenly, Sherlock heard the gun click and Madison eyed him suspiciously as she did it. Sherlock remained looking into her eyes with extreme integrity. Madison suddenly grinned and dropped the gun to her side.

"You're an odd one Holmes," she told him lowly. "You didn't even flinch when I held the gun to you and you didn't even react when I changed in front of you."

"That's because it is nothing I haven't seen before," Sherlock replied lowly.

"So you do remember that night?" she checked with him and he shrugged.

"Vaguely."

"So no other girl has come along and tried?" she cocked a brow and switched the light out in her wardrobe and moved into the kitchen with Sherlock following her.

"Would you be jealous if someone had?" he asked her.

"I don't think so," she said and took out the vodka bottle and poured herself a small glass. "You were something to do one night."

"And you were an experiment," Sherlock shrugged. "So why should I remember?"

Madison chuckled lightly and moved over to him, her small mouth going close to his ear.

"Because I'm the best you'll ever have," she informed him.

"I doubt it," he replied and her mouth lingered lightly on his ear for a moment before she pulled back and chuckled. Before she could move off he grasped her wrist lightly and pulled her back to him.

"You need to stop this Madison. You will get caught."

"And you think I'm scared?" she asked him.

"I think you should be."

"Why?" she asked. "Because if you come too close to finding anything which could damage me then I will get to you Sherlock...make no mistake about it." Slowly, she pushed her hand into Sherlock's coat pocket and pulled out his phone which was recording. She stopped it whilst Sherlock did nothing but watch her.

"I think you'll have to go and buy a new phone," she whispered and kissed him on the cheek before moving back into her kitchen. "You can show yourself out."

"I'll be seeing you later," Sherlock told her in a drawl.

"I don't think so."


	3. Chapter 3

"What happened?" John asked Sherlock when he saw the consulting detective walk back into the flat. Sherlock's face was set in a frown whilst he removed his large coat and scarf, his eyes looking into John's before he looked away and at his coffee table.

"She's into something deep," Sherlock replied. "No evidence of the crime links to her and she has people who would defend her if anyone got too close. She's good."

"Who is she Sherlock? And none of your rubbish to throw me off the scent. I need to know."

"Madison Walters was a girl I went to university with. Nothing else," Sherlock promised his friend. "She was always very clever and one of the most manipulative people I have ever met. She's moved into the business of illegalness now."

"What does she do?" John pondered and Sherlock shrugged, reaching for his nicotine patches and placing them onto his arm before flopping onto the sofa.

"It depends on the client I imagine," Sherlock spoke in a long drawl. "In the recent case she was paid to kill a secretary who knew too much about her company's business. She says the body was never meant to be found. She informed me that most the time the bodies which disappear are not traced again."

"So why was this one?"

"Nature has a strange way of acting John," Sherlock placed his hands under his head and flexed the muscles in his arm. "She tells me the River Thames spat it onto its banks."

"So why have you yet to tell Lestrade this?" John pondered.

"Because I have no evidence to support my theory. She knows that and so do I. Without evidence Lestrade cannot make an arrest and will not..."

"Lestrade hangs on every word you say Sherlock," John told his friend, folding his arms across his midriff as he did so, holding his chin with one hand. "He would be willing to go on a little faith if he knows it may stop her."

"Waste of time," Sherlock shook off. "She won't crack and nothing they say to her will make her speak."

"There has to be some evidence Sherlock," John snapped at his friend. "As long as she is out there and is as dangerous as you say then people will get hurt! Does that mean anything to you?"

"Can't say it does," Sherlock drawled.

"It's the case. Isn't it?" John checked and Sherlock popped one eye open as his friend shook his head in utter disbelief.

"What about the case?" Sherlock played innocent.

"You're once again getting off on trying to catch someone. You enjoy risking your life to do this and you don't care if she hurts anyone else." John hissed at Sherlock who rolled his eyes.

"I'm not risking my life."

"But you're risking other peoples."

"They are not my concern."

"They should be."

"My only concern," Sherlock muttered lowly but deadly as he sat up, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, "is being able to find out who Madison Walters has worked for and why she is doing it. Only then can I be able to hand her over to the police. At the moment I know nothing about her."

"But you want to."

"But I want to what?" Sherlock asked.

"Get to know her?"

"I know everything about Madison," Sherlock replied in a slow drawl. "After that night there is nothing I don't know about her," he added on in a whisper causing John to not hear him.

"If there was anyone else like this then you'd have been on them in a millisecond Sherlock. You would have been off to Lestrade with your theory and begging him to arrest them...what makes her so special?" John took a seat in the armchair, wondering why he was being so secretive.

"Nothing," Sherlock said simply. "I just don't want to waste my time sending Lestrade on a wild goose chase. I shall catch her John. Make no mistake about it."

...

Madison sat on the stool at her breakfast bar with the gun in her hand, the trigger dangling off her little finger as she downed another shot of vodka and looked at the gun with hard concentration. She had the chance within her grasp to kill Holmes. She could have sorted him out once and for all and he wouldn't have bothered her with his searching again. The body may have been hard to dispose of but she would have managed. He hadn't changed much since university. He was still an arrogant and cocky man. But she couldn't deny that he was good looking. Why hadn't she shot him? The answer was quite simple. The chase was something she enjoyed.

...

"Boss," Harry grunted as he saw Madison walk into the office building. She nodded once and walked into her office. If anyone asked her she was a property developer. Searching the housing market for homes to buy and sell on and her small office was her little escape place where she dealt with business. She had everything sussed in case someone came asking questions. A legitimate business of her own was enough to keep people at bay. Everyone but Sherlock Holmes.

"Do we have anything today Harry?" she asked the man and he followed her into the office and stood whilst she hung her coat and briefcase up.

"Nothing today ma'am...but a man did call earlier. Said he would pop back later."

"And whom was it?" she asked, removing her leather gloves with purpose.

"A Jim Moriarty," he told her. "Said he wanted to ask a favour of you."

"Oh did he?" she asked and he nodded. "Well when Mr Moriarty returns then show him to my office."

"And he said he wasn't a client," Harry replied and Madison cocked a brow.

"What did he say?"

"Said he wanted to be your 'partner in crime.'"

"And did you not tell him that I prefer to work solo?"

"Yes ma'am. But he said on this issue he believed you could be swayed."

"What were his exact concerns?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

...

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock stated when he picked up the ringing landline phone.

"221B Baker Street," Madison spoke as she sat at her desk, her feet resting on the glass table as she twirled a pen in her hand. "You file your house address under your phonebook."

"I am aware. Considering it is my phone you are ringing me from," Sherlock told her and she chuckled.

"BlackBerry," she made a tut noise. "You need to get yourself an IPhone."

"And you need to get yourself a legal profession."

"In that case you need a real job," she replied. "And how are you today Holmes?"

"What do you want Madison?"

"A nice little chat," she chuckled.

"No you don't." Sherlock replied. "I've been searching through disappearances today. Wondering which ones you had a hand in."

"Oh goody," she spoke sweetly. "I do like it when people notice my work."

"That's because you're a psychopath," Sherlock told her.

"I thought I was a sociopath like you?"

"You've moved up in the rankings."

"A promotion." She nodded. "Nice."

"I shan't ask again after this Madison. What do you want?"

"Does the name Jim Moriarty mean anything to you?" Silence.

"Why do you ask?" Sherlock wondered after a moment.

"So you do know him," she stated.

"I asked why do you want to know. Don't change the topic."

"Because he's popping round later," Madison drawled. "Just wanted to know if you knew him."

"What has he said?"

"Do you really think I am going to tell you Holmes?"

"He's a dangerous man Madison," Sherlock warned her.

"I like my men bad," she kidded and Sherlock scowled.

"I'm being serious Madison. You're going to get yourself in too deep with him-"

"I can handle myself Sherlock. Or have you not seen that?"

"I have seen that," he agreed. "But you're going to be playing with fire when it comes to Jim Moriarty."

"Luckily I've never been burnt yet," she replied. "Anyway, thank you for your time Sherlock. I shall leave you to your research."

"Madison-"

But she hung up before he could finish.

...

A/N: Thank you to all the story alerts and faves! Please do review!


	4. Chapter 4

"Damn it!" Sherlock snapped as he placed his gloves onto his hands and reached for his coat. John remained seated in his chair, raising a querying brow at the consulting detective who seemed flushed.

"What has gotten into you?" he asked. He had heard Sherlock on the phone and only after then had he decided to make his move into the living room.

"Madison Walters," Sherlock snapped. "I need evidence to get that girl into jail!"

"Well why the sudden rush?" John asked. "You didn't seem so eager before."

"She phoned me," Sherlock hurriedly spoke, grabbing his wallet and placing it into his pocket. "She's meeting with Moriarty."

"What?" John asked, his mouth agape and he stood, also grabbing his coat. "Why would she do that?"

"He wants to work with her I'm guessing," Sherlock shrugged. "Partners in crime...clearly this is another one of his efforts to get rid of me."

"Would she say yes?"

"I imagine so. If Moriarty offered her the right price I doubt she'd say no to anything...she's getting into business which is far too deep for her," Sherlock spoke.

"How could you possibly know that?" John asked, rushing down the steps behind Sherlock. "By the sounds of it she's a complete psychopath."

"Oh she is," Sherlock spoke. "She's a low functioning one though. Only just makes it into those rankings. But I've seen her before John. I know her as well as I know you...Madison...she's...there's a different side to her..."

"Really?" John raised a brow. "Because I just think she's some consulting criminal like Moriarty who has no regard to anyone's life."

"She's not as tough as she seems," Sherlock replied. "Believe me."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Believe you. Why should I? I mean it is rare you ever tell me the truth on many occasions."

"Because I've spent three years of my life with her John. I know she's an evil woman with no regards to anything other than gaining money. And my IQ is far too great for you to question."

"Then why are we going to stop her? Why not let her get hurt with Moriarty?"

"Because that would not be a very gentleman like thing to do," Sherlock replied.

"You...Sherlock...do you...well...care about her?" John asked as Sherlock finally managed to hail a cab.

"Madison Walters is nothing but a criminal John," Sherlock hissed at his friend, moving in closer as he opened the cab door, causing the cabbie to shout at them to hurry up. "She is a conniving individual but she is not cut out for this. Being in a jail cell will be easier than working with Jim Moriarty."

...

"Mr Moriarty," Madison smiled when she saw him enter her office as Harry left them to it. She stood up and straightened out her pencil skirt before taking his hand into her own and he remained frowning, eyeing her suspiciously before settling down in the chair opposite.

"Miss Walters, I do believe," he said and flattened his tie out, finding it most intriguing whilst Madison simply looked at him in wonder.

"That is correct. What can I do for you?" she jumped straight into business and Jim simply chuckled to himself whilst Madison ran a hand up and down her arm as she became suddenly chilly.

"I think it is more along the lines of what I can do for you," Moriarty suddenly dropped the smile from his face as his eyes peered up at Madison.

"Do you?" she checked with him. "Do enlighten me."

"Sherlock Holmes has been giving you a problem, hasn't he?" Jim asked her and she tightened the muscles in her neck.

"I don't think he will anymore. I warned him away," she assured him and he allowed a grin to enter his face.

"Sherlock Holmes doesn't do warnings." He promised her. "Believe me."

"And why is Sherlock Holmes any of your concern?"

"Because he's caused me more trouble than you can possibly imagine. He's gotten in my way too many times and I want rid of him," Moriarty hissed and Madison couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I haven't heard of you before Mr Moriarty," Madison changed the conversation, noting his anger. "What is it you do?"

"I'm a consulting criminal like yourself. Counterpart to Sherlock. And I've heard an awful lot about you Miss Walters," he assured her.

"Everything good, I hope?" she asked and he chuckled, shaking his head.

"Quite the opposite." He replied. "I understand you're manipulative. Get what you want when you want."

"I like to think of it like that."

"And so I have a proposition for you," Jim spoke lowly. "Help me to kill Sherlock Holmes."

...

Madison rubbed her temple as she walked into her apartment. Once she switched the lights on she felt something on her temple and she closed her eyes for a moment, her lips parting as she looked opposite her and saw Sherlock stood, his arm resting against her breakfast bar worktop.

"This must be Dr Watson holding the gun to my temple then," she deduced and Sherlock nodded. She had done her research on Sherlock.

"Pleasure to meet you," John spoke.

"I would return the compliment but the fact you're holding a gun to my head prevents me from doing so," she replied, her eyes still looking at Sherlock.

"Why don't you take a seat?" John suggested and she began to move, only to be blocked by Sherlock.

"You're blocking my path," she informed him as he began to undo the buttons to her coat.

"And you're hiding something, aren't you?" he cocked a brow.

"You know me too well," she said. "I'm going to have to be more predictable."

Sherlock allowed his hand to go into the inside of her coat, the back of his hand feeling the soft fabric of her purple blouse which she had tucked into her skirt. He slowly pulled out the gun in her pocket and placed it into his own coat, grinning slightly at her as he did so.

"Now you can sit down," Sherlock told her, narrowing his eyes and nodding at John as she passed them. She occupied the leather armchair whilst Sherlock took the one opposite and John the sofa at the side.

"Now what can I do for you?"

"What did Moriarty want?"

"You're wasting your time," she promised Sherlock who took the gun from John and held it in his hands, twirling it menacingly causing Madison to roll her eyes.

"You wouldn't shoot me," she spoke.

"Wouldn't I?" Sherlock spoke and the sound of a bang echoed the room. Madison blinked ferociously and cowered back in her seat as she saw the bullet whizz past her head and hit the wall behind her. One more centimetre to the left and it would have hit her brain.

"You're bluffing," she spoke, choking back the lump in her throat.

"Would you like to see me try again?" Sherlock asked and he held the gun out again. John did nothing to stop him, knowing that he was bluffing but also not minding if the woman was to be shot.

"Give it up Sherlock," she pleaded him. "We both know you won't kill me."

"You really think I would not?" he checked with her. "Then you're more foolish than I thought. I don't care for your life Madison. I care to know why Moriarty requires your services and if you aren't intending on telling me then I shan't waste no more time with your games."

"I thought you were always one for games?" she raised a brow.

"And I thought you were one who knew to keep their nose out of dirty laundry."

"Well you thought wrong."

"Evidentially. Now why was Moriarty talking with you?"

"He wanted to ask me out on a date."

"Don't lie to me."

"To the cinema."

"Madison," Sherlock growled lowly.

"How predictable, wouldn't you say? I mean...the cinema...droll," she mocked horror and chuckled as Sherlock remained un amused. "You know why he came to me."

"I have a theory," Sherlock assured her.

"So why do you need me to confirm it?"

"Because I need to hear it from you," Sherlock spoke. "I know he wants you to help him kill me."

"Then I don't see any reason as to why you're here," Madison said and she stood up and began walking off, her heels echoing off the wooden floor.

"Did you agree?" Sherlock asked her and she stood still. He stood and looked at the back of her curly brown hair as she closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.

"You don't need to say anything," Sherlock assured her. "How much did he offer you?"

"One million pounds," she and then began to walk to her kitchen, grabbing a bottle of beer and opening it up, tossing the cap to one side and then gulping some back in an unladylike manner.

"Money was always your motivation, wasn't it Madison?" Sherlock snapped at her, his eyes burning into hers as he walked over to the kitchen and stood the other side of the worktop.

"There's something else which helps me deal with the new task," she assured him.

"And that is?" Sherlock cocked a brow.

"The old saying 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'."

Sherlock blinked a few moments, his face pale white as he remembered ten years ago.

...

A/N: Once again, a massive thanks to all the author alerts and story alerts and everything! Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

_Ten years ago_

_Sherlock sat in his room and looked over at Sebastian who was quickly changing into a blue shirt and speaking about the party which all of the students attended when they returned back to university, all students apart from Sherlock. Sherlock laid on his bed, his book held up to his face as he read about the First World War. _

"_Are you sure you don't want to come to the party pal?" Sebastian asked Sherlock who snorted._

"_Drinking and conversing is not my area," he informed him. "I can think of better ways to spend my Saturday evening."_

"_What? Sitting here and reading about a war?"_

"_The greatest war of the twentieth century," Sherlock spoke."And I find it more fascinating to read this then to go and find a drunken girl and take advantage of her."_

"_Now hold up-" Sebastian began._

"_Don't try and deny it," Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I know who you've been sleeping with and I know why you do it."_

"_Do you?"_

"_Yes," Sherlock nodded. "You do it because you are in need of the confidence boost."_

"_Sherlock!" Sebastian snapped and chuckled. "Do you think that I need to boost my confidence by sleeping with women?"_

"_That's exactly what I think," Sherlock muttered._

"_Well you're wrong," Sebastian said. "Now I'm going. Have fun with your book Sherlock."_

"_I'm never wrong," Sherlock complained when Sebastian had gone. He spent the rest of the evening reading and making notes before he decided he needed fresh air. Standing up, he took his shoes and dropped them to the floor, slipping into them and then moving out of the room, locking it as he did so and then stepping into the night sky. The stars were out in force on that evening and Sherlock continued looking up at the brightness before he noted her._

"_You know that your health will not benefit from that," Sherlock told her, still not looking over at her as she heard her chuckle. _

"_Then you won't appreciate the fact that I drank a whole bottle of white wine earlier," she told him and he looked at her eventually. She was wearing a short black dress, sequins stuck onto it and her hair was curled naturally and hanging over her shoulders. Sherlock could tell she had been drinking but she didn't seem like a drunken moron like his roommate would be when he returned later in the evening. _

"_It's your liver and lungs," he told her._

"_Do you know why I smoke?" she asked him._

"_Because it is the thing to do?" he cocked a brow at her._

"_No," she replied. "Do you ever feel bored? Restless? Wondering why everyone around you is so dumb?"_

"_I'm thinking that right now," he told her and she narrowed her eyes at him before he smirked._

"_Try it," she told him. "It will help."_

_Sherlock looked at her with caution as he held out a cigarette to him and he looked at it, taking it into his hands and rolling it around, wondering if he should do it. _

"_Don't be such a bore Sherlock," Madison begged him. "It helps keep you calm and relaxed when you feel restless...like now Sherlock. Why else would you be walking here? You're bored."_

"_Fine," Sherlock huffed. "If it will shut you up then I will do it."_

_And so Sherlock took the first cigarette of many to come in the future. That was something else he had to thank Madison for. The two of them leant against the brick building of the lecture hall and took in deep breaths of smoke and she was right. Sherlock did feel more relaxed. It was what he needed. _

"_So why aren't you at the party?" Sherlock asked._

"_How did you know I went to the party?" she wondered, slurring her words slightly._

"_Because you're dressed up extremely nicely and you either went to the party or you've been standing on street corners," Sherlock took in a deep breath and breathed lightly. _

"_Thanks Sherlock," Madison chuckled and she straightened out her dress. "Don't you like it?"_

"_I have no opinion on the fashion of women," Sherlock replied and Madison put her cigarette out. _

"_If...If I were to...do something," she spoke, feeling braver than she felt. "What would you do?"_

"_It depends on what it was," Sherlock replied to her._

"_I like you Sherlock," Madison admitted. "You're bright and clever and I'm bored..."_

"_So you admire me," Sherlock replied. "Not like."_

"_Shut up," she demanded and pressed her lips to his. Sherlock was disturbed at her sudden movement to begin with and his eyes remained open as she continued kiss him deeply, her hands still by her side as Sherlock remained the same. He had never kissed a woman before. He had never felt anyone close to him and he had never had the urge to think about it. Madison was an associate. She was someone who he spoke to and who he knew had a ruthless streak. She was drunk and didn't really like Sherlock. He knew the effects alcohol had on people's brains. Sebastian had even told him that he loved Sherlock when drunk. _

"_That was interesting," Madison said and she took Sherlock's hand and led him into the lecture hall which was still open. She pushed the doors open and looked at all the seats which were empty. The front held a large stage where the lecturer would be and the room was dark and eerie. _

"_What are we doing in here?" Sherlock asked her. He already knew but he wanted to hear her say it. He wanted to hear her even though she was drunk. Sherlock was intrigued as to what was about to happen. _

"_I want you Sherlock," Madison said. "I'm tired and bored...I need some excitement."_

"_And why me?"_

"_Because we're both similar Sherlock...you know that," she told him._

"_You're more brutal than me."_

"_Just be quiet," she demanded and pushed him to sit on the front desk before kissing him once again. Sherlock knew what he was about to do was foolish of him. But she was an experiment. She was as cold as he was and she was bored. Sex meant nothing to them emotionally. Or so he had thought. _

Now

"You said you were bored," Sherlock told Madison as she drank her beer and John remained silent in her apartment.

"And you said I was just an experiment," Madison replied. "I told you that night Sherlock...once we had finished...I told you how I felt..."

"You were drunk Madison," Sherlock replied. "You had no idea what you were feeling."

"Don't question me Sherlock," Madison hissed. "I know how I felt. And I liked you...do you think I like many other people?"

"Obviously not judging by the way that you have people killed so heartlessly. I don't believe it."

"Do you think I open up to anyone? You were someone I classed as equal! You were someone who I wanted to trust! Who I thought I could trust!"

"You were a cold blooded woman even back then," Sherlock replied.

"And you made me colder."


	6. Chapter 6

"So how you are now is my entire fault, is it Madison?" Sherlock asked her and she dropped her beer bottle into the bin. John had left the two of them to it, walking silently from the room, able to deduce that the topic was a touchy one. Sherlock had no idea what to think. Here she stood, years later, blaming him for being the one who caused her to be cold.

"I wouldn't say your entire fault," she shook her head. "Just that you make things happen yourself Sherlock."

"Do you think I asked to almost be killed?" Sherlock snapped at her. "Do you think I want for you to kill me? You won't succeed anyway Madison."

"I may not," she told him. "But Moriarty will."

"How much would you like to bet?" Sherlock replied cockily and she chuckled lightly.

"I don't gamble," she replied.

"So you agreed to help because I didn't tell you that I liked you in university?" he checked with her and she shrugged, reaching into the fridge for another beer.

"I don't care that you didn't tell me that back," she replied, using the bottle opener. "What I did care about was that I told you and then the next morning you informed me that it meant nothing and you only agreed to it because I was an experiment."

"You were an experiment," he assured her. "And you were a drunken one at that."

"I told you I was speaking the truth when I said I liked you," she promised.

"Well then I hate to have disappointed you," Sherlock drawled. "Although I could never say the same thing back to you or else I would have been speaking a lie."

"And now here we are," Madison said, her voice going high pitched as she raised her glass in cheers.

"You're in too deep Madison," Sherlock promised her, walking over to the kitchen and folding his arms, resting them against the worktop and then she did the same, the two of them close together, eyes baring into each other.

"I'll be the judge of that," Madison whispered.

"We both know you won't complete your end of the deal."

"I will."

"No you won't. You like me too much to do that."

"I liked you. Use the past tense Sherlock," she hissed at him and he frowned deeply. "Now you're nothing to me. You're just a cold and empty shell."

"Seems were quite alike then Madison," Sherlock informed her.

"I'm better than you Sherlock," she promised him and opened the top drawer of the worktop she was leant against and drew out a gun, dropping it onto the worktop.

"So you had a hidden gun," Sherlock stated with a small gun and a nod. "Impressive."

"I like to think so," Madison said, her eyes still on his as she drained her beer.

"It's a shame," Sherlock grinned lopsidedly as he went into his pocket and pulled out several bullets, "that it's not loaded."

Madison's cockiness washed from her body whilst Sherlock remained confident.

"When do I need to be dead for?" Sherlock asked her.

"By the end of the month," she replied. "And then I get my payment."

"And why does Moriarty need for you to do this?"

"He said you were hard to get rid of and that he needs to lie low for a while and wanted me to do the job," Madison informed Sherlock who nodded in understanding.

"That sounds like him. Getting someone to do his dirty work for him," Sherlock spoke lowly. "Of course you tend to operate the same way as him."

"The pay is too good to turn down, Madison shrugged. "I kill you and then I jet off and live my life on a warm beach."

"You don't want to kill me Madison," Sherlock muttered and she placed the bottle onto the worktop.

"I'd care to disagree."

"You don't have the guts. You've never killed anyone before. You won't start now," Sherlock replied. "And when your time is up then you'll be in trouble. Flee now before he really does kill you before me."

"That won't happen," Madison said. "And why do you even care?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do you even care if he were to kill me?" she asked Sherlock. "You don't like me, remember?"

"You're a clever girl Madison," Sherlock informed her. "It would be a shame for you to die even if you are a psychotic criminal."

"And that is your only reason?" she raised a brow and Sherlock chuckled lightly, running his hand through his black hair.

"If you are expecting me to open up and declare my undying love for you then you are to be disappointed. That is not going to happen and you shall just have to make do with my advice."

"I'm not running," Madison promised him. "I'm getting my money and then I will go."

...

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	7. Chapter 7

_Ten years ago_

"_Jesus," Madison gasped as she rested her head on Sherlock's shoulder and the young man froze at her sudden contact. It was almost as if she were getting close to him. It was a simple touch but it was one which he didn't want to mean anything. And he had to make Madison realise that too. _

"_Was I that good?" Sherlock cocked a brow and she raised her head up, shifting herself from Sherlock's lap until her feet were flat on the floor and she began dressing herself from the clothes which were laying on the floor. She chuckled once and shrugged back into her tight dress whilst Sherlock did his shirt buttons up._

"_You weren't bad," she replied. "I don't what more to say."_

"_Words are not needed," Sherlock assured her. "What we did was a one off thing."_

_Madison remained silent. That was it. She had just slept with him and he was going to leave her as if it had never happened. She wasn't one for emotion and whilst they had been intimate she had declared her feelings for him. Her feelings of how she couldn't help but think he was someone like her. That she truly liked him. But now she couldn't stand him. She wanted nothing more than to run from the lecture hall and back to her room. _

"_A one off thing?" she raised a brow in his direction. _

"_Yes," Sherlock replied. "We both know that it can't happen again. We can't take things that far."_

"_Why can we not?" Madison asked him and he sighed once, belting his trousers together._

"_Because I don't want to have someone rely upon me," Sherlock told her. "And we both know that you're not one for relying upon people."_

"_I'm not," she agreed. "But why did you even agree to this?"_

"_Because I was intrigued as to what it was like," Sherlock said. "You were a great distraction."_

"_Glad I can be of service," she replied with a hiss and picked her heels up onto her fingertips and stormed from the room. Sherlock watched her for a moment before jumping off the single desk and rushing after her. The night was cold and dark as Madison stormed away from him, her brown hair flowing quickly from side to side as Sherlock caught up with her and grasped onto her arm, turning her quickly._

"_You were not expecting that comment, were you?" Sherlock asked her and she shrugged, brushing off any emotion which she had inside of her._

"_I fail to care. You provided me with some fun and that is all," she said._

"_Don't lie to me," Sherlock replied. "You really thought something would become of us after tonight."_

"_I don't care," Madison snapped. "I don't need you Sherlock. I don't need anyone. Can you not see that?"_

"_I know you don't Madison-"_

"_Then why are we still having this conversation?" she interrupted him and his eyes went wide. She had to have been drunk when she told him how she felt. He could still smell the alcohol and smoke on her breath. He knew the sober Madison and he knew she was not someone to declare a liking to someone. _

"_Because there is more to it," Sherlock replied. "But you're drunk still. The alcohol is in your veins and you probably don't mean what you say."_

"_No," she spoke lowly, snapping her wrist from his hold and glaring into his eyes for a moment. "I obviously don't."_

_Sherlock watched as she turned around and walked away from him. And this time he did not follow._

Now

"Sherlock Holmes is a problem," Moriarty agreed with Madison as she sat opposite him at the place he called his office. She had come alone and she was wondering about his building. He had it covered in men, all hiding guns in their jackets and all she had was the small one in her coat pocket.

"He is a problem," Madison said. "He came around to my home last night, telling me that I didn't have the guts to kill him."

"And what did you say in response?" Jim cocked a brow and Madison pushed her hair behind her shoulders and crossed her legs.

"I told him that he didn't know me that well if he thought I was not going to carry out the task at hand," Madison replied. "Although I am curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat," Jim smiled at her and she remained emotionless.

"Why must I be the one to kill him?" she asked and Jim leant back, his fingers lacing themselves together whilst Madison watched on with intent.

"Why ask me that now?"

"Because I am pondering," Madison said honestly. "You know multiple of people Jim. You know more assassins then I do I imagine. So why me?"

"You're the only one who I can think of who would hurt him the most," Jim shrugged. "That's what I look for when choosing my people."

"Why do you think I would be able to hurt him?"

"You two have a history. One which is deep. Or so I am told," Jim said and he stood up.

"How do you know about our history?" Madison continued to question him whilst he walked around to the back of her chair and bent down, his hand going onto her neck, running up and down in an almost soothing method.

"I know a lot of things Miss Walters," he whispered into her ear.

"I am starting to see that," Madison spoke.

"So...do tell me that you are not beginning to have second doubts about this," Jim pleaded with her.

"No," Madison said. "Never."

...

"Why is she like she is?" John asked Sherlock as the two of them sat in a cafe. John was tucking into his full English breakfast whilst Sherlock remained with his cup of tea, looking at his friend intently.

"You mean why is she a cold blooded psychopath?" he asked and John nodded with a shrug.

"I suppose," he told him.

"Madison Walters was simply made like that," Sherlock spoke. "Her parents were wealthy people. Her mother a fashion designer and her father a politician. Neither parent spoke with Madison much. The girl lived in and out of boarding schools. She was distant and kept herself to herself. That is why she is like she is. It is all to do with the genes."

"And how do you know about her past?" John asked.

"The internet is a wondrous thing," Sherlock yawned once and then ran a hand through his hair. "She would never have told me that piece of information. She is much too stubborn and proud."

"Like you then," John replied.

...

A/N: Thank you to Haylee for reviewing!


	8. Chapter 8

Madison stormed back into her own office later on in the day and in her rage she pushed all the stationary from her desk, allowing it to clatter to the floor. Harry remained stood outside her office, watching as the brunette screamed loudly and finally placed her hands onto her hips, looking out onto the street before Harry decided to enter her office with caution.

"I'm being played," she spoke loudly and Harry cocked a brow.

"What do you mean ma'am?" he asked her and she shook her head, looking down onto the floor before she whipped around and looked at her assistant with a deathly glare.

"I mean that Moriarty thinks I'm his puppet!" she snapped. "He thinks he has control on me!"

"Is he foolish then ma'am?" Harry tried to lift his boss' spirits but her eyes seemed to narrow even further in complete and utter hatred.

"Yes!" she snapped. "He thinks that he can tell me what to do! He thinks that he can treat me like he has done! Like I should be scared of him! He has no idea what he is dealing with! 'I know a lot of things Miss Walters'," she mocked him. "Well so do I!"

"What exactly happened ma'am?" Harry asked her and she remained silent for a moment and then sat down on her seat, bending over to pick up the stationary she had destroyed.

"The way he spoke to me Harry," she shook her head. "The way he moved around me when I saw him...he thought he could intimidate me...I could tell."

"Are you feeling alright ma'am?" Harry began to ask her and her eyes went wide with rage.

"Don't patronise me!" she demanded from him. "No one makes me feel small. Not you, not Jim Moriarty and not Sherlock Holmes!"

"I'll get you a coffee," Harry said and left to avoid her wrath. She was fed up. Anyone could see that. Her meeting with Jim earlier had proven that he thought he could intimidate her with his knowledge of her past with Sherlock. He had moved around her like a lion moved around their prey and Madison wasn't going to put up with it. She refused to be bullied by someone like him. But what would she do? She wanted the one million pounds and she needed Sherlock out of her life. His death was a certainty. But if she was to be the one to make it possible then she would do it without being the puppet of Jim Moriarty.

...

Moriarty sat in his car opposite 221B Baker Street as he watched Madison hack her way into the front door. She was good, there was no denying that. But she was not his equal. No one apart from Sherlock Holmes was equal to him and he wanted to eliminate that factor. He could tell the girl thought of herself as someone high and mighty but he would soon put her back in her place. He would soon make her see that he was the only consulting criminal in this world. The reason as to why she was to carry out the task was simple. She had a history with Holmes and it was one that could torture Holmes as he died by her hand. She would do anything for money. And that made her his toy.

...

Sherlock entered 221B Baker Street later that evening after John had told him that he was going to go and see Sarah. Once inside the building her looked around and took in a light sniff of something. She was here. He could smell the designer perfume of her in the hallway. With a sigh, he removed his coat and scarf before walking up the steps and placing them onto the sofa in the darkness of his flat. He hit the light switch and walked over to the window, looking onto the street for a moment.

"Hello Madison," he said loudly and then heard footsteps coming from the kitchen. He turned quickly and saw her walking through the wooden doors, a gun in her hand as Sherlock cocked a brow in her direction.

"Sherlock," she nodded in greeting and he did the same back to her.

"I didn't think I'd be seeing you this soon again," he informed her.

"I don't like to keep a job waiting," she replied.

"No," he said. "I can imagine."

"And the sooner I get my money then the sooner I can be out of here. And you will stop causing me a problem," she shrugged.

"Moriarty really has you wrapped around his finger," Sherlock spoke and she snorted.

"I want you dead anyway. The one million I gain from it is just a nice bonus," she replied. "If he thinks he can control me then he is mistaken."

"I don't think he is," Sherlock said and began to slowly move over to her. "He has you doing his dirty work. You're nothing but a play toy."

"Don't start Sherlock," Madison demanded from him.

"Why not?" he asked her. "We both know it to be true. You're nothing but his assassin."

Madison raised her gun and pointed it at Sherlock, but before she had time to shoot he had her hand in his grasp and using as much strength as he could, he twisted her arm until it was behind her back and the gun dropped to the floor. Using his foot he kicked it under the sofa and felt Madison's back against his front, pushing against him and trying to get him to let her go.

"Seems that by making you angry you become rash," Sherlock said.

"You think so?" she asked him and then raised her foot, kicking Sherlock swiftly in the shin and escaping his hold. She looked on at him and bunched her fist into a ball, slinging it in his direction but he ducked her punch and then stood quickly, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist until he managed to sling her over his shoulders.

"Sherlock!" she snapped. "Put me down!"

"I don't think so Madison," he replied and she bit her lip before swinging her leg and kicking him in the stomach, causing him to loosen his hold on her. She tumbled to the floor, her skirt riding up as she did so and she groaned in pain at the impact. She quickly stood up, but before she could do anything Sherlock had her pressed against the wall, his hands going around her wrists as she grunted in annoyance.

"It's a good job you get over people to do your dirty work normally," he whispered as her body wriggled beneath his weight. "You're a terrible assassin."

"You won't be saying that when I kill you."

"I'd like to see you try."

...

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	9. Chapter 9

"I swear to God that I will make your death more painful than I had initially planned if you don't let me go," Madison hissed at Sherlock as he bound her wrists together with some tape he had in his experimental cupboard. He had made her sit down on a chair in the kitchen and was binding her to it with as much tape as he could. He didn't want to take any chances when it came to her. He knew she would run out at any given moment and he was not going to risk it. He was doing this for her safety as much as for his.

"You're not going to kill me Madison," Sherlock told her. "We both know that so stop struggling."

"Why are you even keeping me here?" she demanded to know. "Moriarty will probably come looking for me-"

"-And when he finds out you're here then he will kill you too for being a rubbish assassin." Sherlock concluded for her and she simply chuckled lightly in annoyance.

"Sherlock this is ridiculous," she complained.

"I couldn't agree more with you," Sherlock told her and taped her legs to the chair quickly and harshly.

"Is there even any point to me arguing with you?" she asked him and he chuckled lightly, standing tall and allowing his hand to gently brush her cheek as he looked into her eyes.

"No Madison," he said honestly. "Now do you want anything to eat? You're looking quite thin."

"So are you," she replied and Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm built this way," he told her. "You normally had some weight on you."

"Are you saying I'm fat?" she snapped at him and he chuckled before putting the kettle on to boil.

"No," Sherlock replied. "It is just that you are normally curvy."

"Well you would know," Madison muttered and Sherlock turned his head slightly and looked at her with a cocked brow and a slight smirk on his face.

"Oh shut up," Madison complained.

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking. It was annoying," she told him and he stirred his tea bag and checked his watch which read eleven at night. Time was ticking on.

"Now Madison," Sherlock spoke. "You can get out of this and live. But we both know that you're not going to kill me so you should run."

"Why do you underestimate me Sherlock?" she asked him, suddenly in wonder. "Why do you think that I don't have the guts to kill you?"

"Because you get other people to do it Madison," Sherlock spoke. "You never kill anyone and you won't start now with me."

"But I think now would be the best time to start," she replied, "Especially when it is someone who I can't stand."

"Don't lie," Sherlock replied to her. "I know what you think of me. You can't pretend that you feel something different."

Madison tossed her hair to one side so it went from her face as she watched Sherlock sit himself down at the kitchen table which he could not deny was a mess. He was going to prove that she still had feelings for him. He had to do that so that she could see that she couldn't kill him before it was too late. And manipulation was something Sherlock was an expert at.

"And what is it that I feel for you?" Madison asked.

"You love me Madison," Sherlock shrugged and took a sip of his drink whilst her eyes went wide and she looked him straight in the eye.

"Are you deluded?" she blurted out. "You think I won't kill you because I'm in love with you?"

"I know you're in love with me," Sherlock told her. "You try to deny it because you don't want to feel anything and that is why you're trying to kill me. To prove you don't love me."

"That was enlightening," Madison snorted. "You really are delusional."

"Do you think so?"

"I know so."

"Hmm," Sherlock said and he stood up, bending down in front of her, his hands resting on her upper leg to steady himself. His pulse remained normal but he could tell that she was heating up at his touch.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, trying to sound impatient.

"Proving you wrong," he said. His touch was the lightest of touches as he walked around the chair and his fingers rested onto her neck whilst his other hand pulled her hair behind her back.

"It's not going to work," she told him and he chuckled lightly against her neck, her hairs standing on edge and her pulse fastening.

"I think it is working already," he whispered.

"Nothing is going to deter me from this Sherlock," she promised him.

"I'd care to disagree," he whispered, "because you can't lie to me Madison."

"I can," she replied.

"Okay then," he finally humoured her and moved his lips to her neck, kissing it up and down as she groaned in annoyance and pleasure as to what he was doing. She knew what his plan was. He was manipulating her and making her see that she did feel something for him and that she had to get out before she went back on her promise. She wasn't stupid. And neither was he.

"Sherlock," Madison whispered his name, angling her neck for better access.

"Yes Madison?" he asked her, his hands moving around the chair and resting on her ribcage.

"Untie me," she pleaded.

"And why would I do that?" he asked, his mouth engulfing her ear.

"I think you know," she replied.

Sherlock chuckled lightly and set about freeing her slowly and with caution. She allowed him to move around her until he had finished with the bounds and he stood her up, expecting her to throw herself into his arms. But her body's reactions were fighting the urges.

"Arse," she snapped and slapped him straight across the face. He held a look of shock on his features and grabbed onto her arm before she turned around to grab the gun which was resting on his table. The two of them looked at each other for a second before they did anything. Madison hauled her lips onto Sherlock's and he took no time in wrapping his arms around her waist, picking her up under her bum and slamming her back against the nearest wall. He allowed his lips to leave hers for a moment as she wrapped her legs around his waist and panted loudly, looking into his eyes for a second.

"Sherlock-"

"Shut up Madison," he told her, his hands undoing the buttons to her blouse. "After this you need to run."

"I can't-"

"After this," Sherlock replied lowly and deadly. "You run."

Before she even had a chance to think of stringing a coherent sentence he kissed her again. She was truly in trouble.

...

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	10. Chapter 10

Madison couldn't hear anything the next morning. She sat up slowly and looked around the room. Normally she would be able to hear the sound of honking horns from her apartment but there was nothing; nothing at all. And then she remembered she wasn't even in her own flat. Shaking her head, she placed both feet onto the floor, picking up the thin white sheet as she went, holding it to cover her front. She knew what she had done and she knew the every bone in her body had told her it was wrong. Turning her head to look over her shoulder she saw him sleeping on the mattress. His body was laid so peacefully it made Madison feel something in her stomach. He was breathing lightly and was sprawled out on the bed. She had slept with him. Now she had to face the consequences. She began to change back into her clothes quietly, not wanting to wake Sherlock. She placed her heels onto her feet quickly and grabbed onto her blazer jacket before walking back into the living room and picking up the bag she had brought and placed down. She dumped her discarded tights into the bag which were in the living room and then checked her reflection in the mirror before looking back down the corridor to where Sherlock still slept. She didn't go back and wake him as she moved down the steps of 221B and out onto Baker Street. People looked at her as she exited from the flat above the sandwich shop and she kept her head high, walking along the street in yesterday's clothes. She passed John on her way but managed not to be noticed by him until out of sight. Out of sight and into Moriarty.

...

"Did I just imagine that?" John asked Sherlock when he walked into his flat. The consulting detective had changed into his pyjamas and had stood at the net curtain, watching Madison walk down the street. He had not made a fuss when she had left for he did not want her to stay with him. Sherlock dropped the net curtain and looked at his friend with a raised brow.

"Did you imagine what?"

"I just passed Madison," John said. "And she looked a bit of a mess."

"Did she really?" Sherlock cocked a brow. "She must have wanted to leave in a hurry. Normally she doesn't go out without perfecting her face so she looks presentable."

"She left? You mean she was here?" John checked and then something dawned on him. "Sherlock...did you..."

"Try and finish off your sentence John," Sherlock drawled, jumping over his coffee table and picking up a glass before walking into the kitchen with it, filling it with water.

"I think you know what I want to ask," John spoke quietly and Sherlock downed the glass of water.

"I did sleep with her," Sherlock said and John shook his head, placing a hand onto his temple and rubbing it. "Fair to say that I got more action than you did with Sarah last night. Is the sofa not being kind to you?"

"Don't change the topic," John hissed. "Why did you that Sherlock?"

"Because it was the only way to get her to leave," Sherlock whispered, turning around and placing the glass into the sink and then moving back into the living room, taking the newspaper from John's hand which he had bought.

"I fail to even comprehend what goes on in your mind," John said. "I need the reason behind your actions."

"She slept with me John," Sherlock spoke slowly, like he would when speaking to a child. "And so because she did that she won't be able to kill me because she will realise she loves me."

"Will she?" John raised a brow. "Because that woman seems incapable of emotion."

"She's not," Sherlock shook his head. "Trust me. There is something about her John...she's not a normal person...I don't know what to think about her."

"You're playing with fire Sherlock." John warned his friend.

"I'm not anymore," Sherlock assured John. "She'll be out this country by tonight. Mark my words."

...

"I didn't think I was paying for you to sleep with Sherlock," Moriarty told Madison as they walked down the streets side by side. She was keeping her head up and looking him straight in the eye as they walked.

"It was a momentary lapse," she assured him.

"Are you sure?" Moriarty asked her and she nodded.

"Positive. It won't happen again. I'll have the job done soon."

"Really?" Moriarty continued to push her.

"Yes," she nodded.

"Good. Because it would be a shame to kill you for failing."

...

Please do review!


	11. Chapter 11

Madison sat in her apartment with the gun beside her on the bed. She had her head held in her hands and her face was showing strain. She didn't know what she should do. Moriarty had made it quite clear that if she was to fail at her task then she would be punished severely. Even though she didn't want to admit it, he had a hold on her. She knew he was powerful and he knew she was equally as powerful. But she couldn't help but feel that he was in a different league to her. He was so calm and collective all of the time that it worried her. She knew that he classed Sherlock as an equal. But Sherlock wasn't at all like Moriarty. She knew there was some part of him that had a heart. Only a small part but it was a part. But what about her? Was Sherlock right when he said she cared for him? She didn't love him. Love would be too much of a strong feeling and Madison wouldn't want to love anyone. She had never been truly loved and she didn't want to know what it was like. She had seen it hurt people and she didn't want the same thing for her. And so, as she sat on her bed she wondered what she should do.

…

"So how are you intending to know if she has left?" John asked Sherlock that evening. Sherlock remained silent for a second as he read the paper and undid another button on his shirt, suddenly turning warm.

"She will have left," Sherlock suddenly whispered. "I'm sure about it."

"And if she doesn't?" John asked, eating his dinner whilst Sherlock said he wasn't hungry, his stomach was feeling different than normal and he wondered if he was coming down with something. It had started ever since he had slept with Madison. He blamed her if he was to become ill.

"The she will get herself killed," Sherlock said simply. "She has sense and knows that she should go."

"Why do you want her to flee Sherlock?" John asked him. "You slept with her…you can't tell me that it meant nothing."

"I can quite easily tell you it meant nothing," Sherlock spoke. "It was just sex."

"I don't understand you Sherlock," John said. "You seem to want to care about her…why else would you tell her to leave?"

"I'm doing the kind thing, am I not?"

"The kind thing would be to hand her over to the police for what she has previously done," John said. "She's a criminal."

"I'm not giving her to the police on a plate," Sherlock said adamantly.

"You won't or you can't?" John asked.

"I won't," Sherlock spoke. "There is nothing that I cannot do."

"What is it that you feel for her Sherlock?" John asked bluntly. "Because the way you've been acting today shows you feel something for her. You've been moping around all morning and you rejected a case for heaven's sake! What is going on?"

"Nothing is going on," Sherlock snapped and stood up quickly. "And the sooner you stop going on then the sooner I will be able to think straight."

…..

"I needed to see you," Madison said as she sat in the deserted café at eleven in the evening. Sherlock took a seat opposite her and raised a brow.

"You've never needed anything before," he said and she sighed, her slim hands tightening around her hot chocolate in the cheap polyester cup whilst Sherlock remained sat up straight, his hands resting by his sides.

"What happened last night was a mistake," she told Sherlock and he looked into her eyes, examining her face whilst she continued to look down onto the table, not knowing what to say to him.

"I class it as a good mistake," Sherlock told her and she shook her head, running a hand through her brunette hair and sniffing as she did so.

"It wasn't," she said. "I…I've tried so hard…and I can't do it…Sherlock I can't do it…"

"I told you this before Madison," he said to her. "Right from the start I told you that you couldn't do it."

"And now I believe you." She whispered. "I'm a bitch Sherlock," she said, looking him in the eye. "What I've paid people to do…I know it is wrong…but I don't care. I don't feel anything for them."

"Caring is not a necessary emotion," Sherlock told her. "People's lives clearly are not of interest to us."

"But that is wrong," she replied. "It is so wrong it is unbelievable for normal people to understand."

"We're not normal," Sherlock said. "Well I'm certainly exceptional. You're…"

"I'm what?"

"Messed up," he simply said and she snorted, nodding as she did so.

"I can't argue with you on that," she said. "But…when it comes to you…I can't kill you Sherlock…I don't love you," she rolled her eyes, "we both know that would kill me to do…but I feel something for you…"

Sherlock remained silent after hearing what she had said. She felt something for him? How vague was she intending on being to him?

"What is it you feel?" he simply asked in a mutter.

"I don't know," she replied quickly, looking back at her steaming hot drink. "That's the issue."

"Well," Sherlock said. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I know what you're thinking."

"Do you?"

"You're thinking about how you feel nothing for me and just want me out of your life," she shrugged. "I get it."

"I wouldn't say that," Sherlock replied, tilting his head to side and smirking lightly. "You bring excitement to my life."

"I bring danger to it."

"Most people do that," he assured her and they went silent before he spoke once again, "you need to get out of here."

"I know," she replied. "He's…I can't handle him Sherlock…Moriarty is different to others I've seen."

"I'm aware Madison," Sherlock told her. "So get on a flight and leave."

"Why do you care?"

"Yes Sherlock," another voice suddenly spoke, "why do you care?"

…

A/N: Thank you to the DoctorsMistress for reviewing! Please do leave a review.


	12. Chapter 12

"So I have an issue," Moriarty spoke, sliding into the booth next to Madison, her eyes remained anywhere but looking at his as the three of them sat in the empty booth. Sherlock stared at Moriarty, tucking his hands onto his lap as he remained silent.

"And what would this issue be?" Sherlock asked him and Moriarty chuckled, his face turning to look at Madison.

"I think it is quite clear Sherlock," Moriarty said. "Miss Walters here apparently wants to flee. Is that correct?" he asked her and she said nothing. There was no use in lying to him when he had quite clearly heard their conversation. She hated him.

"She was never cut out for this," Sherlock said. "You should have known that."

"I had my doubts," Moriarty admitted with a shrug. "But she knew the consequences."

"You should just leave her alone," Sherlock spoke lowly. "She's not like us."

"You're not like me," Moriarty replied simply. "You've proven that by seeing Miss Walters."

"I know I'm not like you," Sherlock nodded. "But Madison is completely different."

"She's a coward," Moriarty snarled, looking at her as a single wet droplet fell down her cheek and she shook her head.

"I'm not," she said. "I just can't kill him."

"Then I will kill you," Moriarty spoke, an evil smile taking over his face. "It really is simple Miss Walters. You had your chance."

"I know," she said, finally looking him in the eye, her eyes glazed over as he shook his head, standing up and checking his watch as if he was bored of their presence.

"I have to be going," he told them. "I'd love to stay and chat but I have bigger fish to fry. I shall be seeing you both soon."

"Not too soon I hope," Sherlock drawled and Moriarty chuckled.

"Oh I do hope so," he spoke in a whisper and turned on his heel, leaving them alone.

"Listen to me Madison," Sherlock said, his voice urgent and his hands going onto the table as they grasped her free one, making her attention turn onto him in the process of doing so, "you need to get out of here. You need to run and never come back...I can fit you out with fake ID and you need not come back here again."

"And what do I do?" she replied. "Have you not met him Sherlock? He's good...what if he finds me?"

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen," Sherlock promised her and he stood up, holding his hand out to her. "Come Madison, we have no time."

"What about if I deserve it?" she asked Sherlock, taking his hand and allowing him to escort her from the cafe, his arm wrapping around her waist as he hurried her along.

"Deserve what?"

"What if I deserve to die?" she whispered whilst he hailed a cab and shook his head.

"No Madison," he simply spoke. "You're not going to die."

"But all those people I hurt...maybe this is revenge...fate?" she suggested and Sherlock stood still, grasping her shoulders and making her look him in the eye as people passed them by, staring on, thinking they were crazy perhaps?

"I don't believe in fate. I believe that we make our own choices," he informed her. "Do you understand?"

"Yes Sherlock, but what if-"

"Shush Madison," he told her. "Do you want to die?"

"Of course not-"

"Well stop speaking of fate and make sure that you don't get yourself killed. Now come on...we need to get you out of here."

...

"They've gone back to her apartment boss," some yawned down the phone to Moriarty as they looked onto the new apartment building where Sherlock had escorted her into.

"Good," Moriarty replied. "Keep your eye on them."

...

"No!" Madison snapped at Sherlock once they returned to her home and Sherlock held the scissors in one hand. "Are you insane?"

"Just a highly functioning sociopath," he replied with a shrug. "You have no option."

Madison held onto her brown curls in one hand and ran her other fingers through them mindlessly as she bit her bottom lip and shook her head.

"I will dye it," she spoke, trying to compromise.

"That's not enough Madison," he told her. "Even by being blonde they will still notice you. Did you not see the car watching you as we moved into this place?"

"Of course I did," she replied. "I notice everything."

"Then you will notice that you need a convincing disguise." Sherlock tried to make her see sense and she simply just shook her head, looking onto the floor in disarray as she did so.

"I can't..." she said.

"So you can have people murdered but you can't let me cut your hair?" Sherlock spoke, his brow raised in slight amusement as she folded her arms.

"It's my hair Sherlock," she spoke. "I like it."

"I'll only cut it up to your chin," he assured her.

"No!" she yelled at him. "Up to my shoulders."

"An inch above," he said.

"A centimetre," she said. "I'm not joking Sherlock."

"I can see," he said with a shake of his head.

"Come on then," Madison said and lead him into her bathroom where she sat on the closed toilet seat allowing him to stand and cut her hair, the remains of it falling into her bin as she looked into her mirror and at the concentrating consulting detective.

"You didn't answer my question," she suddenly piped up.

"And what would that one be?" he wondered.

"Why do you care what happens to me?" she asked and Sherlock shrugged awkwardly.

"I don't know," he replied.

"Okay," she said, understanding what he was trying to tell her.

"Okay? Is that all you have to say?"

"What else can I say?" she asked him. "I can't push you for an answer."

"Normally you would," he said and she chuckled.

"I get it Sherlock," she simply spoke.

"You do?" he asked.

"Yes," she said.

"Good."

For both of them to sit there and admit they actually liked each other would lead to nothing. So sometimes words were best left unsaid.

...

A/N: Thank you to TheDoctorsMistress and to BitChiVampire who has reviewed all my other Sherlock fics! Thanks very much! Please review.


	13. Chapter 13

"So what do I do now?" Madison asked Sherlock once he had cut most of her hair off and was lounging on a bar stood, a cup of tea at his lips as she packed a case full of clothes and Sherlock suddenly shook his head.

"You can't take your clothes," he told her and her eyes went wide at what he was saying. She pulled her case from her bedroom and cocked a brow at him, waiting for an explanation.

"So you cut my hair and make me dye it before telling me I can't take any of my clothes? Do you have any idea how much designer costs?"

"Several lives?" he asked her and she snorted, shaking her head and raising her hands.

"I didn't kill anyone," she said.

"Debateable," Sherlock muttered. "And how do you think it would look if you wheeled a case from your apartment when people are watching you? Even with a disguise you'd still stand out. No, you take your handbag and walk to the main road and hail a cab."

"And what am I supposed to do with clothes?" she asked him and Sherlock chuckled, waving his BlackBerry in his hand, his eyes trained onto it.

"Mobiles really are wondrous things." He informed her. "I have someone on the way with a fake ID and passport along with debit cards."

"And where is the money for my card coming from?" she raised a brow.

"Don't say I never do anything for you," Sherlock replied lowly and she shook her head.

"No way," she said. "I have thousands in my bank. I don't need your money."

"Too late," Sherlock declared, jumping down from the stool and pacing up and down in her living area. "I had the money transferred whilst you were changing into those awful clothes-"

"You told me not to wear anything flashy!" she objected at what she was wearing. It was her large blue college sweater along with her ballet pumps and skinny jeans. Not fashionable but it was plain. What he told her to go for.

"That I did," Sherlock spoke. "But you can hardly use your own card. Moriarty will be watching every move you make. This calls for skill to get you out of the country, skill which only I possess."

"Smart arse," Madison snorted as she pushed her case back into her room and looked around her apartment.

"Are you going to miss it?" he asked her.

"What?" she wondered aloud.

"Your apartment? Your life? Everything?" he asked and she shrugged simply.

"As long as you sell my apartment and place the money into my account then I shall not complain. As for my life..." she chuckled. "Do you think I had much of a life?"

"You had an illegal one," he told her and she smiled down to the floor, nodding as she did so.

"That I did," she said. "Anyway...when should my ID be here?"

"Soon," Sherlock spoke, checking the clock. "And I had to change your name."

"To what?"

"Victoria Casey," Sherlock shrugged. "It was the first name which popped into my head."

"Victoria?" she checked. "I don't think I look anything like a Victoria."

"No, Madison suits you," Sherlock agreed before he heard a knock on the door. Opening it up Madison's eyes opened as she saw him take something from a man and handed him a fifty pound note. He had ordered pizza.

"I have food in my apartment!" Madison objected and Sherlock dropped the container onto the worktop and opened it up.

"I needed to get it in here without being noticed. Honestly I have no idea how you went all these years without being caught."

"Because I'm good," she said adamantly.

"That is challengeable," Sherlock informed her.

"Shut up. My mind isn't thinking right," she replied and Sherlock handed her the fake ID which had her photo on it and the passport. He had sent a photo via his mobile of her new look to his underground world colleague who had set to work on it straight away whilst Madison made herself presentable. It was ridiculous how many people Sherlock knew.

"Now you go," Sherlock said. "You have to go first because if I were to leave before you then they would be waiting for you to exit later on and so anyone would be a suspect."

"Where do I go?" she asked him.

"The world is your oyster as they say," he said and she nodded whilst Sherlock handed her black bag to her with everything she needed inside.

"Don't look suspicious and get to the airport as soon as you can. I shall stay here for a while and wait," he promised her.

"What about if they know it is me coming out the building?" she worried.

"Use the fire escape if you must. I just think they will have every angle of the building under surveillance and using the fire escape will look suspicious," Sherlock admitted to her.

"I'll stick to your plan then."

"I would," he spoke and she nodded.

"I'll go then."

"You should."

"I will," she said and walked over to the door whilst Sherlock remained stood in the middle of her living room. She turned around as she opened the door, her eyes looking into Sherlock's as they said nothing.

"Don't say anything," he told her. "We can't act on the words and they would be a waste."

"I know," she said in a whisper. "I'll see you later Sherlock."

"Not this time you won't Madison," Sherlock spoke clearly. "Don't get into trouble."

She grinned at him and shrugged. "I can't promise."

And with that she shut the door and began her descent down her apartment, leaving Sherlock behind in every sense as she did so.

...

A/N: Please review?


	14. Chapter 14

Madison took the lift down her apartment block, casually doing her makeup as she went; her heart pounding as she went. Normally she never felt any form of emotion whilst doing her criminal activities. Maybe that was because she wasn't the one killing anyone. But now she was riding down the elevator and knowing she was going out onto a street where people were watching for her. She knew she had to do this to survive but she wondered if just giving herself up would be easier. Did she want to run and look behind her shoulder every minute? But did she really want to die? No. She would rather run for life than die when she thought about it. And so that was how she found herself striding out onto the street, keeping her head up, showing people her face and her new blonde short hair as she went. She knew the car was sat watching her but she continued moving until she was out of the small car park and onto the streets of London. As soon as she could she hailed a cab, jumping into it and asking for the airport as she did.

...

Sherlock moved out of the apartment half an hour after Madison had left and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, moving quickly down the street, noting that the people in the car had climbed from it and were walking up to the apartment in search of Madison. With a smirk on his face he moved until he hailed a cab, ordering it to his flat. He continued smiling contently as he looked onto the sights of London. He knew Madison would cause havoc wherever she ended up. It was just the type of girl she was.

...

"Italy?" the woman behind the check in desk asked Madison as she handed her the fake passport and remained with a calm smile on her face as she nodded, hoping that the woman didn't note any fake ID.

"Yes," Madison replied.

"It's nice," she simply replied with a grin. "You'll enjoy it. Is it just a one way flight?"

"For the moment," Madison said. "I'm going travelling."

"I wish I had the money to do that," the woman sighed as she handed Madison her passport and ticket and Madison chuckled.

"Find a wealthy man who wants the best for you and you'll be able to," Madison spoke, turning to walk away from her as she said it, "even though he can't tell me that for himself."

...

"What do you mean she's vanished?" Moriarty snapped as he spoke to one of his henchmen and the man shrugged.

"We went in after Sherlock has left and she wasn't there," he told his boss who shook his head, looking around the empty apartment.

"So where did she go?" he snapped.

"Like we said, we don't know," he replied and Moriarty placed his hands onto his hips and looked onto the view of London.

"I know someone who will."

...

"She's gone then?" John asked Sherlock when he walked back into 221 B, a spring in his step surprisingly as he went, removing his leather gloves as he went. Sherlock nodded once at his friend and then stood tall, sighing as he did so.

"I don't know where and I don't need to know where. That way Moriarty won't be able to torture information from me," Sherlock informed his friend and John gulped slightly, swallowing his beer as he did so.

"Do you think that he would do that?"

"I don't think there is anything he wouldn't do," Sherlock nodded, "especially when he is determined to get what he wants."

"So did you get her the fake ID?"

"Yes. But I had best not tell you her new name in case Moriarty threatens you," Sherlock said, lounging down onto his sofa and placing nicotine patches onto his arm as he did so.

"What?" John snapped. "I don't want anything to do with this mad cow and her ways!"

"Don't call her that," Sherlock replied. "She was misguided. She's not mad."

"But she has been a cow," John insisted and Sherlock snorted.

"There's no denying that," Sherlock spoke back. "But she'll be fine now."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm always sure."

"In that case why are you wearing nicotine patches then?"

"Because I feel different," Sherlock spoke. "I need something to distract my mind."

"What do you feel?" John asked his friend.

"I don't know...that's the issue."

...


	15. Chapter 15

"That's fine," Victoria said as she took the order and walked back into the restaurant under the canopy which ran along the middle of the outside restaurant. There were tables and chairs either side of the runway and then there was a door at the end of the red carpeted covered canopy which lead into the inside restaurant where no one was at that moment in time due to the hot weather in Italy. Victoria adjusted the white apron which only went around her waist and covered the front part of her black tube skirt. She messed with her short blonde hair and pulled her tight blonde blouse down her body before handing the chef the order and writing figures into a separate column for the bill she had to take to table five which overlooked the view of the sea. The night was coming to a close and people were ordering their final orders as Victoria moved back out into the outside world and noticed a man sat a table, his hair black and curly and his back turned to her as he looked onto the sea. She noted that he had a white porcelain cup on his table and his hand was resting on its handle. She hadn't served him that evening and so she wondered who he was. But she had an incline.

"Waitressing," he drawled as she finally saw his face. His eyes remained looking out onto the blue see as she smiled lightly, running a hand through her hair and tearing out the bill from her small notebook.

"It's different," she said. "I just need to give this bill to table five…then I'm done."

"I'll wait," he said. "I've been sat watching you all night, I believe I can handle two more minutes."

Victoria handed the bill to the table which housed a family of four and then she took a seat on the table which he was sat at.

"I didn't notice you here all night," she informed him and he shrugged.

"I've had a different waitress serving me. She has been rather good," he said and Victoria chuckled, crossing her legs and looking at him.

"How did you find me?" she asked.

"You used my money to buy a ticket here," he told her. "I have connections as well."

"And why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were fine," he said. "And I have to admit that I didn't think I would find you doing such a mundane job."

"It's nice," she shrugged. "It's…different and not too hard."

"Don't you get bored?" he asked her, sipping on his tea in the hot Italian weather. Only Sherlock could do that.

"Not really," she said. "I like it."

"And so one of London's greatest criminal ends up serving on people," Sherlock made a tut noise.

"And what about you? Still terrorising the criminal ranks?"

"Of course," Sherlock said. "Six months have passed and I can't begin to explain how many criminals I have found."

"And how is Jim?"

"Jim is Jim," Sherlock said. "Still killing and annoying everyone."

"And is he still looking for me?"

"You're dead," Sherlock said and she blinked several times.

"Excuse me?"

"You're dead Victoria. The body of Madison Walters washed up along the Thames and I identified it."

"You mean there was a body which looked like mine and so you said it was?" she checked and Sherlock nodded.

"It's helped keep him off your scent," Sherlock said. "Now he doesn't care about you."

"Impressive," she nodded.

"I'd like to think so."

"So why are you really here?" she asked and Sherlock stood up, looking out to the calm and gentle sea.

"I'm going tomorrow morning," he told her. "I've been here a week."

"Why didn't you come and see me earlier if you knew where I was."

"Because we have nothing to say to each other Vicky," he said, "nothing that would take a week to say."

Sherlock began to stand up and Victoria did the same, looking at him and running a hand through her hair.

"Are you going?" she asked him and he nodded.

"It's late," he said. The sun had disappeared beneath the sea as he shrugged out his blazer and wrapped it around her shoulders. "And I was going to walk you home."

"I can manage," she said.

"I know," Sherlock replied. "I've seen that."

And so she took hold of his arm and he walked her back to her apartment, realising they wouldn't see each other for a long time after Sherlock had left her.


End file.
